Choking on Poison
by rusticautumn
Summary: AU of DoS (after/during the barrel scene). After Kili is shot, the affects of the Morghul shaft take hold of him much quicker than excepted and the Company must make haste, and sacrifices, in order to save his life.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit, or anything related to Middle Earth in either its film or book form (as much as I'd like to).  
**

The arrow pierced his thigh, just above the knee, stopping him in his tracks. It was as if time had stopped, icy tendrils slithering through his veins, clasping at his heart, which thudded loudly in his ears as he gasped in pain.

'Kili!' His brother's shout sounded faint in his ears as he dropped to the ground, his leg frozen in an icy grip.

His vision temporarily greyed as a blurry shadow appeared before him. As his vision returned he watched as an arrow plunged itself into the chest of the orc, sending him tumbling down, swiftly followed by another.

Turning, Kili found the figure of the elf, Tauriel, standing on the river-bank, her bow ready as she moved to eliminate her next target. As more elves joined her on the river bank Kili turned his attention back to the lever.

His leg felt leaden as he tried to sit, and he pushed his full weight onto his uninjured leg as used the steps beside him to steady him. It didn't have to be pretty he just needed to reach that lever. He grimaced as his leg seized painfully, his knee refusing the bend, as he pulled himself toward, and eventually lunging forward. He none too gracefully fell against the lever and allowed his weight to pull it down, falling back against the floor as his vision greyed once more.

He sagged upon the ground, his chest heaving. He felt the vibrations beneath the stone as the gate opened, releasing the trapped barrels. He sighed once before beginning to move to the edge of the bridge as his brother called back out to him. He didn't have time to think; he just moved, blinded to everything but his target and the pain.

He shifted his legs over the edge, the arrow dragging through his muscle, causing him to grimace as he hefted his entire body over the side. He was only vaguely aware of the cold spray of the river as he landed against the base of the barrel, the arrow snapping against the rim with a loud crack. The break reverberated through his leg to the bone, and he ground his teeth together as he slumped back against the edge of the barrel.

Kili could feel the barrel drifting across the water, and could hear the rush of the waterfall ahead, while metal striking metal rang out above his head. As the barrel drifted beneath the bridge he breathed heavily, his head lolling against the rim of his barrel as his eyes began to close.

The barrel suddenly shifted in the water's current and his foot slipped across the bottom. After everything else, that was all it took; he slid down as the world darkened around him, the icy pain clawing at his bones and gripping at his heart… his brother's shouts drowned out by an abyss of pain and cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or Middle Earth**

'Kili!' Fili called out to his brother once more as the barrel slipped under the bridge and his brother appeared to pass out, his face almost white as he gasped with laboured breath.

Fili lost eyes on his brother as his own barrel was swept away, a flurry of cold water assaulting him as he was pummelled by the heavy and steep current. As his barrel bobbed back up at the bottom of the fall, he turned around desperately, trying to find his brother once more.

A little way ahead he saw him. His brother appeared to be conscious once more, but barely. He was listing against the edge of his barrel, his eyes only half open, with his wet dark hair plastered across his forehead in a knotty mess. Bofur had reached out and was gripping the rim of Kili's barrel, keeping the two containers close to one another.

Fili caught a flurry of movement on the bank beside him, and watched as the orcs, quickly followed by the fast moving elves, sped down the sides of the river. Fili pushed his way, as best he could, against the flow of the current, trying to get to his brother, but his barrel was only pulled further away, and he was forced to turn away, raising his weapon to defend himself.

Ahead he watched as the fair-haired elf landed on his Uncle's head, crossing the river, and he winced inwardly on his Uncle's behalf. An arrow caught the rim of his barrel, only an inch away from where Fili's fingers rested, and he quickly pulled his hand away, searching the shore for the culprit. He watched as an orc, his bow raised, ready to fire another arrow at him was felled by an elf, one of the Guard; one moment there was a sword protruding through the orc's chest, the next, he lay upon the ground and the elf had disappeared.

Another orc lunged for Fili, throwing a spear, which Fili quickly parried. Fili reached and grabbed the spear, replacing the branch he had been previously using. He had gained a weapon, and the movement had also caused his barrel to spin, giving him a better vantage of his brother once again.

Bofur was gripping Kili's barrel tightly, despite the arrows that now riddled both of the wooden shells. In his other hand was a branch, even thicker than Fili's had been, which he had lifted above his head, his eyes watching the bank on the opposite side of the river. He may be a toy-maker by trade, but he could fight to protect his own. Assured that Bofur would not let go of his brother, Fili turned his attention back to the bank on his right side; together he and Bofur would keep his brother safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or Middle Earth**

The current slowed as the barrels slipped into shallower water.

Having lost the orcs and the elves, the company of dwarfs, and a half-drowned Bilbo, slowly pulled themselves to the edge of the river where there was a fairly accessible outcrop of rocks. As the current had slowed, Fili had been able to pull himself closer to his brother, and both he and Bofur had done their best not to jostle Kili's barrel too much as the younger dwarf lay against its side; conscious, but only barely.

Kili was breathing heavily and his face was contorted with pain; already dark shadows had crept beneath his drifting eyes, and, although Fili couldn't be sure because of the spray from the water, there appeared to be drenched in a sheen of sweat.

'Just a little longer brother,' Fili urged. 'We're almost there, just stay awake for me.'

'Aye, Kili,' said Bofur. 'We'll be on solid ground soon.'

Kili moaned gratefully as the barrel swayed once more, causing the nauseating pain to increase. Fili watched his brother for a moment, his words of comfort catching in his throat as he saw his brother's pain so clearly etched onto his face.

He reached out and began to swim towards the shore, with Bofur doing the same on the other side. Together they made short work of the last stretch, until Fili felt his fingers brush against the stones at the edge of the water.

Dwalin reached down and put two strong arms under Kili's, pulling him out of the barrel. The action caused the younger dwarf to groan in pain, before what colour had been left in his face disappeared entirely and he collapsed, totally lax, in Dwalin's arms.

Fili pushed his way out of his barrel as fast as he could and without much dignity, swallowing a mouth of murky water as he temporarily lost his footing and dropped beneath the water's surface. He resurfaced, but Thorin had already reached them and was helping Dwalin carry the now unconscious Kili away from the river-side.

Fili surged forward and joined his Uncle at his brother's side as Kili was laid out across the rocks, with Bofur and the other dwarfs not far behind him.

The stump of shattered wood was still visible, sticking out just above Kili's knee, a fresh swell of blood, almost black in colour, staining his torn breeches.

'Let me through,' Oin grumbled, although he was gentle in pushing Fili and Thorin aside. Fili positioned himself above his brother's head, placing it in his lap, while Thorin remained on Oin's other side, near his nephew's feet.

As Oin examined the wound that had affected his brother so badly, Fili gently pulled away the hair that had been clinging to his brother's face. His fingers brushed across the skin; Kili's forehead felt as though it was burning as hot as the furnaces back home.

'He's got a fever,' Fili said anxiously.

Kili shivered suddenly, and the movement clearly caused pain in his leg because he groaned, his head twisting away, as if it would somehow help him to escape his turmoil.

'That's impossible,' Thorin said. 'He's been injured for barely an hour. No infection sets in that quickly.'

'It's not an infection,' Oin said softly.

'Then what is it?' Thorin asked gruffly.

'Poison,' Oin said. 'He's been pierced by a Morghul shaft.'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - Wow! I was not expecting such a response. THANK YOU to everyone that has read, reviewed, followed, and/or added this to their favourites. I am so, so thrilled that you guys are enjoying this.**

**A slightly longer chapter this time (which is a trend I'm hoping to keep up) - I hope you enjoy it! :)**

**Disclaimer: As much as I would like to move to Middle Earth, it is an invention created by J. R. R. Tolkein, and filmed by Peter Jackson and is therefore not mine, nor is The Hobbit for that matter.**

* * *

_'Poison,' Oin said. 'He's been pierced by a Morghul shaft.'_

'How can you be sure?' asked Fili, glancing at his uncle. Thorin wore an expression of horror as he looked between Oin and the wound in his nephew's leg. Red-black blood pooled on the stone beneath and as much as Thorin wanted to ignore the signs, the fast-acting fever and the thickening black blood told him that Oin spoke the truth.

'What can we do?' Thorin asked Oin.

'I need to remove the shaft before it can do anymore damage,' Oin said. 'It is good that young Kili is unconscious; he will not be aware of the pain, but still… you must hold him down.'

'Of course.'

Thorin straightened his features; if it was not for the murderous glint in his eyes it would have appeared as though there was nothing wrong at all.

'Fili, keep your brother's head still,' Thorin told his older nephew. 'Dwalin, help me hold his leg down.'

Fili watched the change in his Uncle; the move from scared kinsman to group leader and king. He tried his best to match his Uncle's resolve, and he set his features as he gently but firmly held his brother's head still on his lap.

'Shush now brother,' he murmured as his brother groaned, unconsciously trying to move away from the pain. 'Everything is going to be alright.' Fili wished he could believe his own words, but his brother's skin burned against his own and he was beginning to doubt that his brother would be okay.

Thorin gripped his young nephew's leg beneath the wound, while Dwalin placed his sturdy hands on the other side. Between them they kept the leg immobile as Oin cut away at the fabric around the wound.

Already the poison was setting in, dark blood staining the young dwarf's veins; it appeared as though black trails of ink were travelling from the wound, slithering just below the surface of his skin. The black pus leaked out, dying the wooden shaft of the arrow and congealing with Kili's ever darkening blood.

'I'm going to need some fresh water,' Oin said. 'The river water will have to do for now, and I'm going to need something clean to bandage this with once I'm done.'

'I have a few spare hankies,' Bilbo said timidly. 'They're a bit wet though.'

Despite the circumstances Fili huffed out a brief chuckle, the cold air tickling Kili's pained face, causing his nose to scrunch up.

'They will do just fine Master Baggins,' Oin said. 'Thank you.'

'Always trust the hobbit,' grinned Bofur as he knelt down by Fili, resting a reassuring hand on the young lad's shoulder; he figured Fili needed as much comfort as his brother did right now, regardless of how much of a stone face he put on.

Fili only had eyes for his brother but he was glad for Bofur's presence. The damp tip of the toy-maker's hat brushed against his face and, although irritating, it also reassured him; his friends were close by.

Oin watched Kili's chest rise and fall, his breathing laboured.

'Alright lad,' he soothed. 'Let's get you fixed up.'

Oin didn't wait any longer. He reached into the wound and found the metal tip of the shaft. He gripped the wooden shaft, just above it, and pulled with a hard tug. The movement was sudden and Kili's whole body jerked wildly. Thorin's knuckles were almost white as he held his nephew's leg still and Fili pushed against his brother's shoulders, forcing the dwarf's weary head back into his lap, murmuring unheard reassurances to his brother.

Oin deposited the blackened tip on the stone beside him before turning back to his patient.

'Where's the water?' Oin asked. Although never one to snap, his voice bore no space for tardiness.

'Here.' Ori and Nori offered Oin with a fragment that had broken off one of the barrels, and which served as a slight lopsided basin, which they had filled with water.

'Thank you.'

Oin carefully washed the wound, cleaning the blood away from the skin and revealing the ragged hole above Kili's knee. The wound was far from neat and blackening blood still bubbled in the gap.

'Your handkerchiefs please, Mister Baggins,' Oin held a hand out, and the hobbit somewhat anxiously dropped the damp cloths into the healer's hand. 'Thank you.'

Carefully, Oin bound the wound tightly, knotting the fabric around the hole in Kili's leg.

Throughout all these ministrations, Kili had remained unconscious, although his face was tempered by a permanent grimace. Fili had kept up his litany of soft murmurings, and although Kili seemed to react, more than likely unconsciously, to the warm tickle of his brother's breath against his ear, Fili was not sure he could hear him.

Thorin, however, had eyes only for the discarded arrow shaft and the blood that had poured from Kili's wound and was already beginning to stain Bilbo's hankies.

'What can we do about the poison?' Thorin asked.

'It is incredibly fast-acting,' explained Oin. 'It has entered the boy's veins and although I have treated the wound, the poison is still in his blood. I have nothing with me here that might help him.'

'We need to get to Lake-town,' said Balin.

'Aye,' Thorin agreed. 'We need shelter and supplies if we are to continue this journey.'

'Journey?' Fili asked, a semblance of anger entering his voice. 'Uncle, we need to treat Kili. We need to stop the flow of the poison.'

'I agree with Fili,' said Oin. 'Thorin, Kili's injury is grave and needs further treatment.'

'I did not say that we would not look after Kili,' Thorin said angrily. 'He is my kin.'

Thorin stood and looked across the lake, the fog blocking out his view to the other side.

'We must find a way to cross the lake,' he said.

'Well, I think swimming is out of the question,' said Dwalin dryly, glancing down at Kili's prone form, as he was racked with shivers, the sweat from the fever causing his face to glisten.

'You're right Dwalin,' said Bofur, who still stood beside Fili's kneeling form. 'I knew I should have learnt to swim, but as a lad I found I disliked being wet.' As if to emphasise his point, he pulled off his hat and wrung it out, a broad grin plastered on his face.

Dwalin frowned at the other dwarf, but Fili smiled a little, despite their predicament. Bofur glanced at the younger dwarf and, seeing the youth's reaction, his own grin widened.

'We could use the barrels again?' Bilbo suggested.

Thorin turned towards the barrels, riddled with arrows, dented, and busted up after having been battered against the rocks and the wild currents. He didn't like his chances, nor did he think he could put his youngest nephew back into one.

'Oin, stay with Kili,' said Thorin. 'The rest of us shall salvage what we can and then we shall move on from here in whichever way we can.'

The others began to move, though Fili remained with his brother. Thorin looked at the young dwarf and was about to pull him away, but one look from Fili told him that any argument would be useless.

'Stubborn fool,' Thorin muttered under his breath, but secretly he was proud of his nephew, and of the value that he placed in his relationship with his brother; one day his good heart would make him a great king. He turned, leaving Fili to care for his brother.

He set his sodden boot against the rocky crag, moving back to the water's edge, only to catch the startled movement of Ori, who had been bent by the river, pouring out the water from his own boots.

Thorin turned anxiously to follow Ori's gaze.

Above them, standing tall against rocky outcrop, with an arrow drawn, and trained on the small dwarf stood a figure cast in shadow against the low lying sun.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - Thank you for everyone who has taken the time to read this. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either the book or film(s) of The Hobbit - I'm not making a profit; I'm just playing around with the story / character's a bit. **

* * *

_Above them, standing tall against rocky outcrop, with an arrow drawn, and trained on the small dwarf stood a figure cast in shadow against the low lying sun._

Dwalin, only a few steps away, was fast on his feet. Darting in front of Ori, he lifted the branch he'd been holding only to find an arrow lodged in it. No sooner had he, or the rest of the company lifted their eyes, the man on the ridge had drawn another arrow, and quickly dispatched of the rock that Fili had been preparing to throw, as he stood defensively in front of his brother's fallen form.

'Would anyone else care to try their hand?' the man asked, stepping forwards so that the dwarves could see his features. He was tall, even by the standards of the race of man, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he took in the ragged group.

Thorin was about to make a move towards the man, but Balin stepped forward before he could. Arms raised in a non-threatening pose the older, and wiser, dwarf approached the man.

'Please, Sir,' he said, airing the calm voice of a diplomat. 'My name is Balin, and you… I suppose that you must be from Lake-town?'

'What of it?' the man asked.

'We mean no threat to you, we are merely a group of merchants travelling to visit our kin in the Iron Hills,' Balin said. 'But we were ambushed further up the path; our supplies were stolen from us and one of our own was gravely injured. Perhaps we could pay for passage to Lake-town upon your barge?'

'And how, pray tell, will you pay me if all your possessions, and _coin_, was stolen from you?'

Balin glanced warily at the rest of the group.

'Please!' Fili implored, where he had returned to crouching besides Kili. 'My brother is injured; he needs help.'

'They did not take everything from us,' Balin said. 'What we lack is supplies to treat our wounded, and food and coats. We can still pay you, and, well, it looks as if your boots are a little worse for wear, as does that coat. And there must be children at home?'

The man didn't speak but the slight shift in his expression confirmed Balin's suspicions.

'Can you really afford to not assist us across the lake?' Balin finished.

'I do not wish for trouble,' the man said, although there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice, and his arrow was still nocked to the string of his bow. 'Those barrels, they are from the elves in the forest; I do not believe that you were ambushed, or that you are merely innocent travellers.'

Balin began to speak once more but was interrupted by a groan from below. All eyes turned to Kili as his eyes slowly opened, and drifted across the sky.

'Kili?' Fili leaned into his brother's view and gripped the dwarf's hand tightly. Kili returned a death grip that seemed to indicate just how much pain he was in.

'Fi… Fili?' Kili turned his head slightly.

'I'm here brother,' Fili said as Thorin rushed to kneel on his nephew's other side.

'It… it's cold,' Kili groaned, his body trembling.

'I know you feel cold Kili,' Fili robbed his thumb other the back of his brother's hand, 'but it's the fever. You're going to be alright though. We're going to get you the medicines you need and then Oin will fix you right up.'

'It feels like ice,' he whispered hoarsely, his eyes beginning to close, his head lolling back.

'Kili, stay with us,' Thorin commanded, his deep voice rumbling.

'Uncle…' Kili tried to turn his head towards Thorin but couldn't quite find the energy to do so. Dark shadows plagued his sunken and glazed eyes.

'You listen to me Kili,' Thorin said, moving into his nephew's eye-line. 'You will be okay. I will make sure of it.'

Kili watched his uncle but made no effort to respond to this, instead he drifted back into unconsciousness. Thorin gripped his other hand; it felt clammy, and the sheen of sweat soaked his pale face, his hair sticking to the skin.

'Kili?' he called to the young dwarf, but he could not rouse him.

Oin appeared by his side and checked Kili's pulse and the wound once more.

'The fever has taken a hold of him,' Oin said. 'The poison is travelling fast. We don't have long.'

'There must be something you can do,' Fili protested.

'With what?' Oin asked, sweeping his hand around the barren rocks they were sitting on. 'I have nothing to treat him with.'

'_Even if I knew how,_' Oin almost added, but couldn't quite bring himself to do so. He knew that kingsfoil might help the lad, but he had never had to treat such a poison; he had only ever read about it in books. Without Gandalf's magic, Oin wasn't sure that Kili had much of a chance, but he wasn't ready to share that with the rest of the Company, least of all Fili. Right now the Company needed to believe that Kili would make it, and Oin was going to do his absolute best to make sure that that happened.

Thorin turned back to the armed man; he would reign in his pride if it would help save Kili.

He found, however, that the man had removed his nocked arrow and replaced it in his quiver, although he still looked at the group with weary eyes, and his hand was still poised near the hilt of the dagger in his belt.

'Whoever you may be, I will not be responsible for that dwarf's death,' the man said. 'My name is Bard, and I will smuggle you into Lake-town.'

'Thank–' Balin began, but Bard learnt over the old dwarf.

'I still do not trust you, and if you cross me it will be the last thing you ever do,' Bard said threateningly. 'I am not your friend or your companion. I will deliver you to the town and that is it; I will have nothing more to do with you.'

'That's all we need,' Thorin said.

'Help me get the barrels on board,' Bard said. 'It will look suspicious if I return without what I intended to pick up. And I will need some of that coin to assist me in getting you past the gates.'

'You'll have it,' Balin assured him as the other dwarves began to pick up the empty barrels.

Bard approached Fili and Kili and bent down, propping his elbows on his knees.

'I will help you carry him to the barge,' he told Fili, whose hand still gripped his brother's tightly.

Thorin was about to intercede; he would be responsible for his own kin, but Fili looked up at Bard and nodded.

'Thank you.'

Bard broke out into a brief smile before schooling his features back to their gruff, suspicious expression.

'I'll take his arms, and you take his legs?' he asked Fili.

Fili furrowed his eyebrows and then nodded once. Patting his brother on the shoulder, he stood up and took his brothers legs, while Bard slid his arms underneath Kili's armpits.

With a look to each other to show that they were ready they lifted Kili up. The dark haired dwarf groaned, and he attempted to curl his body in on itself, something that Bard's and Fili's strong arms stopped him from achieving. The movement pulled at the wound in his leg though, and he let out a ragged cry.

'Move!' Bard instructed Fili, who had paused momentarily, frozen by his brother's pain.

The pair quickly carried the struggling Kili across the rocks to Bard's barge, and they lay him down on the wooden slats, near the oar at the back of the boat. Kili's eyes fluttered open briefly as his body settled back onto the solid surface, and Fili called to his brother, but the moment passed, and Kili slipped back into blessed unconsciousness.

'Stay with him,' Bard said. 'I'm going to get the rest of the barrels aboard.'

Thorin glared at the man as Bard set foot back onto the shore but if Bard noticed he paid no heed to it. Most of the barrels had been loaded onto the barge, but a few remained. Instead of going to assist the other dwarfs, however, he put out a hand to stop Oin from passing him onto the barge.

'What poison?' he asked the dwarf, who he had identified as the group's healer. 'You said the lad was poisoned. What with?'

'He was pierced with a Morghul shaft,' Oin explained.

'That is an orc weapon,' Bard said.

'Yes.'

'Who are you?'

'My friend there already told you,' Oin said. 'We're just simple merchants who got caught in the crossfire.'

Bard looked at the dwarf sceptically.

'Can you heal him if I get you to Lake-town?' Bard asked Oin.

Oin looked at the man who towered over him, and glanced towards the rest of the Company, who were all on the barge, or preoccupied, gathering the last barrel.

'I don't know,' he said honestly.

Bard looked at the older dwarf and Oin watched as his expression softened, and even held some semblance of sympathy.

'That's most honest any of you have been with me,' Bard said. 'With the exception of the injured lad's brother.'

'And you will still help us?' Oin said.

'My conscience would not let me leave you here,' Bard said. 'Even if you're not sure if you can save him, if I get you to Lake-town then at least you have a chance.'

'Thank you.'

Bard's nodded once, then his expression hardened. The last barrel was now aboard his barge and he swiftly followed it on.

'Well, let's get going,' he said briskly.

Oin hurried to join the rest of the Company and immediately joined Fili at Kili's side.

Bard steered away from the shore as Thorin knelt beside Kili and the others.

'How is he doing?' Thorin asked.

'He's holding his own,' Oin said. 'Kili is strong; he will not give in easily. And neither will I.'

Thorin looked at Oin, but he did not do so with appreciation but with weariness and scepticism. He had heard Oin's conversation with Bard; that much was clear. Thorin made a move to speak but Oin gave a meaningful look in Fili's direction, before turning away abruptly, focusing his attentions back on Kili.

He waited for Thorin to call him out on his secret, but was met with only silence. Finally, Thorin stood and walked to the front of the barge, leaving the healer with his mumbling, feverish patient and Fili, who desperately tried to comfort his brother, but to no avail.

'You shall live Kili,' Oin said softly. 'I will make sure of it.'


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit (in either its film or book versions). No copyright infringement is intended, I'm just borrowing the characters for my own personal adventure.**

* * *

Bard steered the barge through the narrow gap between the dock sides, pulling to a stop as he neared the gate that barred his way.

'Evening Bard,' the gate-keeper greeted him.

'Evening.'

'Anything to declare?' the gate-keeper asked.

'Just the usual.'

'Right.' The gate-keeper nodded. 'I'll open up for you.'

The gate-keeper's hand was on the winch; they were almost home-free, when Alfrid ducked out of the toll-house, giving Bard a droll sneer that was supposed to pass as a smile.

'Hold up,' he called. The gate-keeper paused uncertainly.

Alfrid stepped onto the barge, and Bard stepped backward, placing his boot on the edge of the pile of blankets that were mounded up against the side of the barge, beneath which the injured dwarf was hidden.

Alfrid placed a hand into one of the barrels and retrieved a stinking fish which he smelt experimentally before throwing it back into the water.

'These barrels are supposed to be empty,' the greasy haired man said.

When Bard didn't speak Alfrid sighed dramatically and turned to the rest of the gate-keeping crew.

'Dispose of these fish,' Alfrid ordered. When no one moved he sighed with exasperation. 'They are not recorded in the log and are an infringement upon the town's laws. Dispose of the contents of these barrels!'

As the men on the dock side reluctantly stepped onto the barge to carry out Alfrid's orders, the dwarves waited hesitantly beneath the surface of their rather smelly disguise.

'Do you really want to do that?' Bard interjected, as Thorin felt his barrel being dragged across the surface of the deck. 'What will the people say if they discover that perfectly good food was wasted merely because there was an oversight in the log. It is a waste we can ill afford, wouldn't you agree?'

Alfrid stared at the bargeman with venom in his eyes.

'Stop!' he ordered grudgingly. There was a long wait where Alfrid glared at Bard, but in the end, Alfrid broke eye contact first. 'Let him through.'

Thorin's barrel was released, but he did not relax. He heard the gate being opened and felt the barge begin to move once more.

'The people of Lake-town thank you for your kindness,' said Bard, an almost mocking tone in his voice.

'Your luck will run out one day Bard,' Alfrid called after him, but Bard did not care for the threat; he had more important things to deal with right now.

* * *

Steering through the complex canals of Lake-town, Bard glanced briefly down at the bundle of blankets. He paused momentarily and moved the majority of the weight off the injured dwarf, and felt beneath the thin blanket that remained. The dwarf was roasting from the effects of the fever, which the warm blankets had undoubtedly not helped, but he was still breathing. Bard counted his blessings that the young dwarf had remained silent while he had been at the gate.

'Is my brother okay?' Fili whispered from his barrel. The surface of fish began to move.

'Stay down!' Bard warned, and Fili, to his credit, obeyed. 'Your brother's okay, a little too warm maybe, but he's still with us. I need you to stay hidden until we reach my home; we are only a little way away.'

Carefully guiding the barge to the edge of the canal, into the alcove beneath his house, Bard turned his gaze to the surrounding streets. Seeing no one of threat he lifted the remaining blankets that covered Kili.

The young dwarf's eyes were closed, his skin clammy with cold sweat and he shifted his head fretfully, as if he was in the midst of a bad dream.

'Alright,' Bard muttered, taking in the sad appearance of the dwarf, before raising his voice for the others to hear. 'You can come out now.'

Grumbling and muttering benignantly the other dwarves began to surface from their claustrophobic and stink-infested barrels. Fili hastened to clamber out of his, and was at his brother's side in a second.

'I'm here brother,' he said soothingly, although Kili was well past hearing this reassurance.

'The front of my house is being watched,' Bard told the other dwarves, as he watched Nori and Bifur release Bombur from his prison with some difficulty. 'I'll cover Kili in the blankets and carry him through my front door, the rest of you will have to sneak in through the back.'

'And why can we not carry our own kin through the back ourselves?' Thorin asked sharply.

'If you want to drag your injured friend through my plumbing system you can,' Bard growled, 'but I don't think it will be in the best interest of his health.'

'Bard will carry the lad,' Balin said. 'The rest of us shall take the back route.'

Thorin frowned.

'Fine,' he said curtly.

Bard gently pulled Fili away from his brother and wrapped the young dwarf up once more, grimacing when he felt the heat that radiated from Kili. Making sure that the true nature of his cargo was hidden under a lumpy mess of fabric, Bard gathered the dwarf up in his arms and stepped off the barge.

'Your entrance is just there, to your left,' he indicated with a nod of his head.

Thorin looked ready to murder the man, but Bard did not care. Bofur walked over to the large pipe that Bard had indicated.

'Doesn't smell too bad,' he said after taking an exaggerated sniff. 'I'll go first and get it over with. Fili, you're next.'

Dwalin glared at the apparently joyful, hatted dwarf, but seeing the gleam in his eye, and the fact that we was practically pulling a half-dazed Fili behind him made him realise the real reason for Bofur's light humour. Dwalin might be hard on the toy-maker, but trust a toy-maker to know exactly what made others tick, and to know how to fix it.

Bard watched the exchange and then headed up the walkway to his front door. He glanced at the men in the boat just in view of his door.

'You can tell Alfrid I arrived home safely, I know how he worries!' Bard called out to them with a mocking cheerfulness, before ducking into his small home.

'Father!' Tilda ran towards him and wrapped her small arms around his legs.

'Hello my dear,' Bard smiled sweetly down at her. 'I am very glad to see you, but can I take a moment to put this bundle down?'

Tilda released him and Bard spied his other two children.

'Bain, go into the bathroom and lift the toilet seat,' he said. 'We're going to be having some guests.'

Bain's confusion was clear but he followed his father's instructions without question.

Bard gently laid the blankets onto his bed and unwrapped the dwarf that was hidden within them.

'Father?' Sigrid leant over his father's shoulder. 'Who is that?'

'His name is Kili and he quite ill,' Bard said. 'We're going to do our best to look after him.'

Bofur suddenly appeared at the doorway of the bathroom, looking a little harried but not too worse for wear.

'I've smelt worse bogs,' the dwarf declared with an idle grin as he sighted Kili and moved towards him. As he reached his friend, only to move out of the way when Fili appeared moments later, he realised the young girl staring up at him with an expression of confusion.

'And who might you be, my dear lass?' he asked.

'I'm Tilda,' she said. 'Pleased to meet you, Sir.' She held out her hand for him to shake.

'Your father taught you your manners well, little lass,' Bofur grinned, glancing up at Bard with appraisal in his eyes, 'but I just climbed up through your bathroom so perhaps we can shake hands another time.'

Tilda smiled shyly and dropped her arm back to her side.

'My name's Bofur, by the way.'

'Pleased to meet you Bofur,' Tilda said sweetly.

'Enough of the niceties,' Thorin interrupted rudely as he strolled into the room, causing Tilda to shrink back, and then creep to stand beside Sigrid, who was helping Oin re-dress Kili's wound.

'Where are our weapons?' Thorin asked Bard.

'Uncle!' Fili turned to him aghast. Even Dwalin looked a little unnerved by Thorin's manner.

'I need time to collect them for you,' Bard replied.

'We paid you for safe passage and weapons,' Thorin reminded him.

'And I do not have weapons lying around the house!' Bard argued. 'I will get them for you, but you must be patient. Look after your wounded first!'

'I have not got time –'

Thorin never finished his sentence, but found himself cut off by his nephew's fist landing solidly on the side of his face. Fili forced his Uncle backwards, and then aimed another punch, which, this time, Thorin was able to defend himself from, ducking, and then pushing himself back into Fili.

Tilda squeaked and Bofur, only a step away, swiftly moved to stand defensively in front of the two girls.

As Fili made to tackle his Uncle once more, Dwalin caught him around his raised arm and dragged him back. Fili growled and tried to free himself, but Bifur grabbed his other shoulder forcefully.

Balin stepped between the pair and pushed Thorin back with a single palm against the King's chest.

'Kili is wounded!' Fili yelled at Thorin. 'Your kin is lying gravely injured and all you care about is this stupid journey! Mahal save you, for if you cannot care for your own kin how are you supposed to care for an entire kingdom!'

'How dare you!' Thorin roared, trying to push forward, only to be dragged back by Bard himself. 'I love my kin, but we do not have time to linger while we wait for him to die!'

'Thorin!' snapped Balin sharply, but it was too late.

Thorin's anger fell almost instantly as he saw his nephew sag, utterly defeated, in the arms of Dwalin and Bifur.

'You're wrong,' Fili declared quietly, venom in his voice. 'He will not die, and clearly you do not love him!'

Pulling himself free, Fili marched back to his brother's side and gripped his hand.

'You are not going to die,' he repeated softly.

Thorin made to follow his nephew, but Bard pulled him back roughly and shoved him onto a bench.

'No,' he said sharply. 'I will get you your weapons, but you have lost the right to care for your wounded.'

Bard then turned away from the group and left the house, slamming the door roughly behind him. Balin stood in front of Thorin and waited patiently for him to meet his eye.

'I don't know why I said it,' Thorin whispered.

'Well you'd better figure it out quickly,' Balin remarked, before sitting down beside him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - Sorry, it's just a short filler chapter, but I wanted to set up what was coming. Don't worry, I should have something longer for my next update! Anyhow, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the films/book of The Hobbit. I'm just taking it out for a stroll, and I am making no profit.**

* * *

Tauriel waited, watching the open lands beyond Mirkwood. She didn't have to wait long.

'My father has commanded that we close our gates,' said Legolas. His voice was smooth and sounded like the rustling trees… like home, but Tauriel would no longer be tempted back into the illusion of shelter.

'Your father is blind,' Tauriel said. 'He refuses to see that what is beyond our forests is still our world, and it is dripping with parasites.'

'He is your king,' Legolas warned.

'And yet you still came after me.'

Tauriel was met with silence, and finally she turned her eyes away from the open landscape and faced the prince.

'You know it, just as I do,' she said. 'It is wrong to let these beasts, these orc run rampage. They will kill all those that cross their path. Innocent blood will be spilt and by doing nothing we are only helping the orc in there devilish path!'

'Your emotions cloud your judgement,' said Legolas.

_'… he'll be choking on the poison soon…'_

'No.' Tauriel frowned. 'They do not cloud my judgement; they have cleared it.'

Tauriel watched Legolas carefully as he stood stock still before the barrier of trees. He was right; a part of her motivation lay in her desire to save the dwarf; he had proven himself a worthy and honest creature, one with both courage and with heart. He had fought in battle to protect his company and his kin. He was worth something.

There was more to it than that though. Despite Kili's recklessness, he saw the world the way it really was; there was a freshness to him that Tauriel had not witnessed in a long time, and it had cleared the cobwebs from her mind. If Thanduil wanted to hide in the dark eaves of Mirkwood then he was welcome to, but Tauriel was sick of hiding.

Despite all that had changed for Tauriel, however, Legolas was still his father's son. He had always been rebellious but it was not so easy for him to cross the king, so Tauriel changed tactic.

'We let the orcs escape our lands,' she said. 'That _is_ on us, and if we do not stop them then they will spread their terror across the land of man. We should have stopped them; what are we if we let monsters use our forest as a path toward their destruction?'

Tauriel watched as Legolas shifted. The movement was so slight that even the most observant man would have missed it, but it was enough for Tauriel to realise her success.

Pride; Legolas was, after all, Thanduil's son.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - I had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter, but I've finally written something I'm happy with. If you find any mistakes I'm open of constructive criticism (but hopefully I've snagged them all). Anyway... on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not (rather unfortunately) own The Hobbit (in either its book or film versions) though I would very much like to visit Middle Earth.**

* * *

When Bard returned, his rudimentary weapons wrapped in an old scrap of cloth, he deposited them on the table loudly. Thorin didn't stir though, but instead continued to watch his nephews from where he sat on the other side of the room.

Bard looked around at the activity of the dwarves, although the hobbit appeared to be missing. He spied his daughters lingering near the injured dwarf, helping Oin and Fili care for Kili. Kili appeared to be conscious, though not particularly lucid as his shifted his head and eyes fretfully, gasping with each slow and pained breath he took.

The dwarf with the peculiar hat was seated by the fire, along with the shortest dwarf, Ori. Knelt beside him was Bain, who watched attentively as Bofur fixed his toy catapult before his very eyes. Bard couldn't help but smile faintly at the sight; the catapult had been a gift from Bain's mother before she had died, and the boy had been distraught when it had broken, just under a year ago.

'I have the weapons you requested,' Bard said into the quiet room.

'We won't be needing them just yet,' Thorin said, his voice rumbling deep in his throat. There was a pause. 'Thank you.'

Bard watched the leader wearily and saw the grief that had settled upon the dwarf. He glanced at Fili who merely glared at his uncle before turning his attention back to Kili. Thorin was far from forgiven.

'Sigrid, are you busy?' Bard called to his eldest daughter.

'What do you need father?'

'Could you assist me in making this evening's meal?' Bard asked. 'Your sister, too. We have a lot of mouths to feed.'

'We don't wish to me a nuisance,' Balin said, rising from where he had remained sitting, by Thorin's side. 'You have done plenty for us already.' As he spoke, however, Bombur's stomach gave a telling rumble.

'You have paid me enough coin to feed you for tonight at least,' said Bard.

'You are a kind host,' Balin said.

Bard simply took the praise with a curt nod, and started about making a large stew.

'Well all that fish will come to be of some use,' he said with a grim chuckle.

Bard's daughter's set about beginning the stew over the fire, while Bain helped his father to prepare the fish, with Bombur also offering his assistance; he was a competent cook.

While activity bustled all around the room, Thorin still did not lift his eyes from his nephews.

* * *

After Bard had left, Oin had set about continuing to treat Kili. Fili's declaration that Kili would not die had been heart-warming to hear, but it shoved an icy dagger into Oin's chest; he could not afford to fail.

Sigrid had collected the medicines and herbs that Bard had in the house, as well as some clean bandages to replace Bilbo's ragged and bloody hankies, and Oin saw Kili's chances improve slightly. Although he still did not know how to cure the black poison that was running through Kili's veins, he was at least able to properly clean the wound out with proper alcohol, and he mixed a poultice that would help to stem the wound more successfully. Bard's medicine had also been useful in lowering the fever, and the significant pain that Kili was in.

When he had poured the alcohol onto the open wound the unconscious dwarf had struggled against the pain, groaning loudly, but had not awoken. After applying the poultice to the wound, and forcing Kili to swallow the gross medicine, Oin had slumped in the seat beside him and watched the young dwarf carefully. Fili, too, refused to leave his brother's side, and he sat by his head, a hand resting on Kili's shoulder.

After the medicine had taken affect Kili actually roused; although delirious from the fever he had been more awake than he'd been since they had pulled him from the barrels by the river. Fili had laughed with joy when he saw his brother's watery brown eyes open, despite the fact that Kili appeared to have no idea where he was.

'He's waking up!' Fili had said excitedly. 'Oin, does this mean he's getting better?'

'Give him some time lad,' Oin had grumbled, more dismissively than he had meant, although Fili was too happy to notice Oin's sullen mood. He hadn't the heart to tell Fili that his brother wasn't really getting better at all, in fact he was getting worse; the poison was spreading. The only reason he'd woken up at all was because the medicine he had taken had dimmed his pain. Thorin had gone about it the wrong way, but the fact remained that Kili was dying.

Oin had watched the brothers quietly as he tried to remember everything that he knew about the poison that was swallowed up Kili's blood. He knew that without magic he had little chance at all, and he sent a silent prayer to Mahal for Gandalf's quick return. But still he mulled over the problem that lay in front of him.

'Kingsfoil,' Oin had mumbled at he watched the feverish dwarf shiver before turning to Bain. 'Laddie, do you know of any kingsfoil in these parts?'

'Kingsfoil?' Bain asked. 'It's a weed.'

'Yes, but it has certain medical qualities,' Oin had said, more urgently now. 'Is there any near?'

'We feed it to the pigs.'

'I'll go,' Bofur said standing immediately.

'You'll be noticed,' Dwalin argued. 'Send the burglar.'

The others had all turned to Bilbo, who had been warming himself up by the fire. Bilbo looked a little affronted, but with one look in Kili's direction stopped whatever argument he'd been concocting.

'Do you know what kingsfoil is, laddie?' Oin had asked the hobbit.

'It's a pest of a weed,' Bilbo replied. 'Torments the plants in my garden no end. I'll find some for you.'

He had pulled on his still damp jacket and slipped out the door before anyone could so much as tell him to be careful.

'What is the kingsfoil for?' asked Dwalin.

'It might help counteract the poison,' said Oin, and then he had immediately winced.

'_Might_?' Fili asked. 'I thought he was getting better. Look at him! He's getting better!'

'The poison is still in his blood stream,' Oin had said gently. 'Kingsfoil _might_ cure the lad of it.'

'But it might not?' Fili asked.

Oin had sighed and then looked at Fili straight on; no more lies.

'Typically the effects of this poison can only be stopped with magic,' Oin confessed. 'I will do all that I can for the boy, but I have no magic. I cannot guarantee…'

'No!' Fili interrupted sharply. 'He'll live. Kili's strong, he'll be fine. You'll make him better. You always have done.'

'Fili…' Thorin's deep voice had rumbled across the room as he finally stood up from his bench. 'I was wrong to say what I said. I did not mean to… I did not mean to put anything before my own nephew. I shouldn't have done and I'm sorry. But Kili is very ill and he might… he might not –'

'Shut up!' Fili interrupted. 'All of you just shut up!'

Thorin sank back down onto the bench, and laid his head into his hands.

'Fe…' Kili had then called to his brother and he grasped his hand weakly, coherent… if only for a moment. There were dark shadows under his dark eyes, and they roamed the room almost sightlessly. He gasped as a shiver took hold of his body and he had clenched his brother's hand tighter as the pain assailed him.

'Kili,' Fili reassured his brother. 'I'm here. You're going to be okay…'

Kili tried to pull his head closer to Fili, and Fili bent his own further down.

'Don't shout… a… em.' Kili whispered so quietly that only Fili heard. 'Please… they're… fam…ily… S'not… th… fault.'

'Kili, please,' Fili begged his brother, but Kili laid his head back down and let his eyes drift shut. 'Kili…'

No one spoke. No one asked Fili what his brother had said to him, but Fili stopped shouting; he merely held his brother's head, silent tears slipping down his cheeks as his brother drifted in and out of consciousness.

* * *

Not long after Bard's return, and with the smell of cooked fish lingering in the air, Bilbo slipped back through the door and handed a heap of kingsfoil to Oin. Oin immediately took a few of the stems and mushed him in an oily paste before pushing them into Kili's wound, causing the dwarf to slip back unconscious once again, biting the inside of his mouth as he groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed over him.

A little later, after most of the food had been served, Fili felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

'Come eat,' Balin said to Fili, who was still sitting by his brother. 'You need a break. Come on; just sit at the table with us for a little while.'

'I'll stay with Kili,' offered Bofur. 'If anything changes, you'll be the first to know.'

Fili looked at the hatted dwarf and back at his brother.

'I'll eat here,' Fili said softly.

'No you won't,' Dwalin said, far more gently than Fili had ever thought the dwarf was even capable of. 'Come on, to the table with you.'

Dwalin and Balin practically man-handled Fili to the table and pushed a bowl of fish stew to him. Fili stared at it, but didn't touch it. Directly across the table sat Thorin, his bowl empty.

'Fili… could I… could I sit with Kili?' Thorin asked.

Fili looked up, startled; his uncle had never asked him for permission to do anything before. He looked at his uncle, the king, and the grief that had settled in those deep eyes of his.

'Just while I eat,' Fili managed to say.

'Thank you,' Thorin said, his entire stiff posture relaxing a little. He stood and took Oin's empty seat while Fili finally began to eat the stew, although he could taste nothing.

He was half finished.

'Oin! Fili!' Bofur's alarmed cry had Fili out of his seat in seconds.

Oin beat him to Kili's side, and Thorin tried to pull Fili away from his brother's bedside, but it was too late to not see it… it was too late to not see the black blood sputtering out of Kili's mouth as his whole body was wracked with a spasm. It was too late not to see the black stains on the dwarf's lips and chin. It was too late to not hear Kili struggled to breath as the black blood clogged up his throat as he choked on the poison that flooded his veins and lungs.

* * *

**It is with much satisfaction that I introduce the title's namesake! Mwahaha... **

**(although credit for the concept/the line in italics from the last chapter belongs to Peter Jackson and the orc that delivered the line in DoS, which is where my motivation to write this came from)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own either the film(s)/book of The Hobbit, or anything else related to Middle Earth. I am not making a profit.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Kili felt as if his body was being clawed apart from within.

Daggers of ice gripped at his skin and ripped ferociously at him, tearing him to pieces; the pain was phenomenal. Even as he slipped into unconsciousness, the pain lingered, a dark swirl that invaded his dreams and haunted his sleeping moments.

He felt chilled to the bone and, as he shivered, the pain spiked anew and bolted through him. He tried to physically move away from the pain, but all this achieved was to bring on a smog even thicker than before. The pain and cold seized him and held him practically immobile; every breath he took was charged with pain, which had settled deep in his chest, weighing down on him, as if Bombur was sitting on top of him.

The pain made him gag, and he found he could barely breathe; instead he panted and moaned as he fluttered in and out of consciousness.

Awake, the pain was two-fold, and he couldn't drift off fast enough, but his brother was there. He couldn't see him, only a haze of cloudy colour rested before his vision, but he could feel the firm hand on his shoulder, and just about make out his voice, though he could not tell what he was saying.

At some point he had been moved; he'd been picked up and carried, but the movement had caused a new wave of pain that had made him senseless of all that was transpiring around him.

Faint memories of a tall woman entered his mind; a sarcastic voice, a charming and dangerous smile, though he could not place where he knew her from, or if he even knew her at all. He also conjured up images of his brother, his mother, and his uncle. He knew them; he faintly recognised those memories; he recalled skating on the frozen lake with his brother when he was only a child, and remembered the rune stone his mother had given to him before he left.

Flashes of more current memories struck him with alarming frequency; all more frightening than the last… black blood… the goblins cackles echoing through the caves… vibrating inside his skull… Azog leering… his uncle dead… no… hurt… the chasm of the spider's gaping mouth… rows of teeth nashing together… flesh dangling from the fangs… a fresh jolt of sharp pain spiking in his leg… a charge of cold pain… his heart sliced open…

… Kili cried out… the pain pulling at him… he was vaguely aware of a hand gripping his own, though he could not open his eyes... the blackness of his closed eyelids swirled with dazzlingly painful bright lights that assaulted him, forcing him back into unconsciousness. He gagged on the pain, the weight on his chest pressing down on him, his heart squeezing closed as he sagged… drifting…

Later he pried his eyelids open, though he was met with only hazy shadows. He could hear his brother breathing deeply, and a woman talking… _Mother?_... No… she wasn't here; it was a young voice. I young girl… a child.

He listened through the cloud of pain that was pressing down on him. He couldn't really make out what she was saying, but he liked the sound of her voice. It was soothing. He smiled and groaned once more as his muscles tensed from the icy pain that was still clawing at him.

He heard his brother speak, but could not make out the words. He tried to talk but the pain pulled him back into the black, cold world of his nightmares.

Whisperings echoed through his head… calling to him, leering at him. Monsters jeered at him from their dark corners, and webs that had built in the deep crevices of his mind were dusted away as older nightmares resurfaced. Grief and sadness pulled at him. The monsters called to him and laughed at him… they mocked him.

He tried to pull away from it. He tried to open his eyes.

Yelling.

Someone was shouting… his brother. Fili's voice gripped him. Kili could barely tell what was being said but he called to his brother. He tried to reach him and, somehow, his brother heard.

'Kili,' he heard his name, but then he brother carried on talking and it was lost, driven away by the loud buzzing noise that pierced his hearing; the ice screaming for him to return to the darkness.

He couldn't lift his head, but he spoke, though he could not even hear his own words. _Family_. His family were here; they'd look after Fili.

The darkness beckoned him back and he fell, tumbling back down into the abyss of pain and ice.

The chill was everywhere; his lungs filled with cold air and it clutched at him, adding to the already unbearable weight. His leg burned cold, his lungs were gripped by the ice that had frozen him solid.

He couldn't breathe.

He tried to breathe and couldn't. His lungs wouldn't move.

There was no air.

There was only cold.

There was only pain.

There was only ice.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - First of all, sorry this took an extra day or two to finish, I've had a lot of work the last few days and it meant I had to put the story of the back-burner for a couple of days. Secondly, on a more personal note, I have amazing news! I got accepted onto my PhD programme :D And finally, a request: please don't hate me (you'll see why in a minute when you read on) and try to remember than I am loosely following the film narrative and that there are more chapters to come.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit in it's film(s)/book form... I'm merely borrowing the characters and playing with the storyline for fun only. I am not making a profit. **

* * *

'Turn him on his side,' Oin ordered. 'He can't breathe. I need to get rid of this blood; it's clogging up his mouth.'

Fili sagged into Thorin's arms, and his uncle pulled him away bodily.

'Tilda, Sigrid, come away! Let him work.' Bard called to his daughters. Tilda did as she was told, but did not turn away entirely. Instead she approached Fili and took his hand. She and Thorin sat on either side of him and she remained beside him, holding his hand in hers.

Bard blushed with pride at his youngest daughter's actions, and even more so when Sigrid simply ignored him and climbed onto the bed behind Kili and supported his back as Dwalin and Bofur rolled him onto his side.

Kili's entire body spasmed and Sigrid gently held onto his right shoulder and rubbed his back as he gagged on the black blood that now poured freely from the side of his mouth. Oin listened carefully to his lungs, a permanent frown now plastered on his face, before turning to the table beside him, still laden with the bottles and herbs that he'd used earlier. He quickly mixed a concoction that smelt strongly of acid, and then forced it down Kili's throat.

The young dwarf coughed and spluttered raggedly, and most of the horrid mixture ended up dribbling down his chin, diluting the flecks of black blood that had already stained his skin. Kili gasped hoarsely as he tried to breath in fresh air but he was struggling.

'Do something!' commanded Thorin, leaving Fili's side. 'The boy can't breathe. Help him!'

'Thorin,' Balin tried to stop Thorin from advancing, but was unsuccessful as Thorin pushed past him. Fili began to rise, intending to pull his uncle back, but Tilda held onto his hand more tightly than he expected even Dwalin was capable of, and he remained seated.

'There is nothing more I can do,' Oin said regretfully. 'I have done all I can for the lad, but I have no magic; there is nothing I can do that will save him.'

'He's choking on the poison,' Thorin whispered. 'His own blood is killing him.'

'The poison runs through his veins and there is nothing that I can do to stop it,' Oin said. 'I thought that the kingsfoil might give us more time, perhaps that Gandalf would arrive and could save the lad, but I fear it is too late for that.'

Thorin didn't respond but watched as his nephew laboured to breath, black spittle still expelling itself as Nori held his head and Sigrid rubbed his back soothingly.

Oin followed Thorin's gaze and then looked at Fili, who had an expression of utter grief, before turning to Thorin; rash Thorin, King Thorin, a leader and a commander, a dwarf with a goal, a fighter and a climber… a dwarf who had finally remembered Kili for what he was… family.

'Kili is going to die.'

Oin spoke gently but clearly and wished, for every syllable that passed through his lips, that it was not true. He wished with all his strength that he had the magic that could save Kili, but he did not… he could not save Kili. Kili was dying and there was nothing that would save him now.

Thorin stared at the older, half-deaf dwarf with an expression of utter disbelief, his eyes wide. Behind him Fili let out a quiet sob and made to stand up again. This time Tilda released him and Fili stumbled blindly to his brother's side.

'I'm here Kili,' he whispered, although Kili could not hear him. He took hold of his hand and rubbed it soothingly with his thumbs, knelt, almost as in prayer. 'I've got you.' His voice caught. 'I have you.'

Thorin watched this short exchange, and then his face slipped into a seamless mask, almost unreadable.

'You did your best Oin,' he said quietly. 'And I thank you for it.'

'I'm sorry Thorin.'

'It cannot be helped,' said Thorin. 'Is he in pain?'

'I believe that he is beyond pain now.'

Thorin nodded once and then went to kneel beside Fili, placing a large hand on his older nephew's shoulder.

Kili's breathing was uneven and slow as he gasped hungrily for air that would not come. The inside of his mouth and his lips were stained black, coated by the poison, and his eyes were closed, his face lax. Thorin could feel the heat that rolled off him in waves, and an unhealthy sweat glistened on his forehead.

Oin watched from a distance and then finally turned and walked to the other side of the room. Noticing his action, the other dwarves followed, and Sigrid quietly hopped down from the bed. It was time to say goodbye and the company would give the family a moment of their own.

Oin stared as Thorin and Fili bowed their heads beside Kili and felt a sudden wave of desperation; he had not been able to save him… he had failed in his duty to the boy and to the line of Durin. He felt the guilt settle in the pit of his stomach and then he felt a small hand slip into his own. It felt warm and soft, and un-calloused like his own, and it gripped firmly to his fingers.

He glanced down and saw young Tilda standing beside him. She looked up and smiled at him toothily and then hugged him. Bard, standing a little away from him looked shocked by the action and made to intercept his daughter, but seeing the tension in the old dwarf's shoulders fall away he decided against it, and hung back.

A hacking cough rang out across the room as Kili's back arched as he tried to expel more poisoned blood from his lungs. And then nothing; no ragged breathing, no gasping, no trembling.

Silence.

Death.

Fili sobbed without reservation as he pulled his brother into his arms and rested his head against Kili's crown, rocking gently. Thorin remained still; he didn't move, or speak, he simply stared ahead as Fili cried openly for the loss of his brother.

Oin could barely comprehend what had happened and was suddenly immensely grateful for Tilda's presence beside him. Ori cried quite openly, as did Bilbo, who searched his pocket for a handkerchief, only to remember that they were all gone. Dwalin looked on stoically, but Balin knew of the quiet rage and sorrow that boiled beneath that steely expression. Nori and Dori comforted their brother while Bombur held tightly to Bofur, who wrung his hat tightly in his hands, tears dripping into his beard.

Bard watched the company grieve and felt a heavy sorrow sink into his heart. The dwarf had been so young, and whatever he might think about the dwarves, Bard did not believe that Kili deserved to die so young.

There was a crash outside, distracting the man from the dwarfs' open grief. He turned to see Sigrid open the door and step outside, investigating the noise as a thud rang out from above.

'Sigrid!' he called to her, the dwarves forgotten as he lunged towards his daughter.

And then she screamed.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: WOW! What an amazing response to the last chapter! A very special shout-out to DragonFire081 - you are absolutely amazing and I love you. I cannot thank any of you enough for the amazing response I have gotten for this story; for everyone who has fave, followed, or reviewed this, the fact that you have enjoyed this story so much has really encouraged me to keep writing and update speedily. THANK YOU EVERYONE! **

**Right then, on to the next chapter...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit film(s)/book!**

* * *

Bard leapt towards the open door, towards the sound of Sigrid's screaming, only to be pushed over as a looming figure barged through the gap and rammed into him.

Thorin didn't hear Sigrid's scream, there was only the sound of Kili's silence and Fili's weeping. The growl of the orc and the guttural speech that followed, however, set him on edge… his skin crawling as he listened to the vile creature that had killed Kili… his nephew, his heir… his family.

Roaring into life Thorin swept up a discarded fire-poker and intercepted the blade that had been descending upon Bard. Bard scuffled away and stood, reaching for Tilda, who Oin had pulled back into a sheltered corner.

Dwalin had found the weapons that Bard had brought back earlier; they were nothing fancy, but they would do the trick.

'Sigrid!' called Bard, launching back into the fray, in search of his other daughter.

Nori kicked his way out of the door and re-emerged a moment later, with his arm wrapped tightly around a relatively unharmed, but petrified Sigrid, dragging her through the hectic fight between dwarf and orc, and to her sister's side. Then he, Dori, and Bifur raised their weapons, forming a protective arc around the two girls as their father joined the fight.

Fili had, at first, appeared inconsolable; he didn't move at the sound of the orcs' entrance.

'Fili!' Bofur called to him in warning but as he turned to face that dark creature that loomed over him, he realised that he had no weapon; he had nothing to defend himself, and no real desire to do so… his brother was gone; it was his responsibility to keep him safe and Kili had died. He had failed.

He was ready to die in that moment, but death did not come. The orc fell heavily, felled by an arrow that Fili vaguely recognised.

'Get up you foolish dwarf,' the she-elf, Tauriel, ordered him harshly, pulling him to his feet with an amazing show of strength. Fili saw her eyes catch sight of Kili's body and they darkened. She shoved an elfish blade, one slightly longer than he was used to, into his hand, and then returned to the fray, eliminating the orcs without mercy, striking them down before they could even climb through the shattered windows of Bard's home.

Fili watched the elf with an odd mixture of horror, confusion and awe, and then looked back at his brother. His eyes were closed and he looked almost serene, as if he was not dead, but merely sleeping. He had been unable to protect him, but it was the orcs that had killed him… He let lose a wild battle-cry and sliced the nearest orc beside him, before striking down another that was homing in on Bain.

The young boy looked terrified, but he still held a kitchen knife before him. Fili carefully inserted himself before the boy; he would defend the child; it was the least he could do. It was, really, the most he could do. He could protect him where he had failed to protect his own brother.

The blond elf, the prince, had also joined the fight, and Thorin locked swords with him momentarily, an angry growl passing through his lips.

'I am here to help,' Legolas said furiously, before returning to engage the true enemy. Thorin glared at the elf but returned to the slaughter of those who had stolen his nephew from him, and he did not stop until almost every one of them was dead.

The orcs seemed to realise that it was a losing battle and began to flee. Thorin followed them out the door and made chase, with Dwalin, Gloin, and Dori at his back. Legolas also made to chase the orcs but Tauriel had turned her attention back to Kili.

'Tauriel, come,' Legolas commanded. 'There is nothing you can do for him. We must take the rest.'

Tauriel's gaze lingered on the dead dwarf and then turned back to Legolas with a defiant glare. Legolas stared at the elf with wonder; an excellent and skilled fighter and Captain of the Guard… but also, oddly, compassionate. She was too emotional, and he had not the time to argue; the dwarves were cumbersome and slow; if he was eliminate the orcs he needed to leave now.

Tauriel remained while Legolas swiftly turned and leapt up onto the roof opposite and continued his pursuit. His light feet carried him across the rooftops with a speed that the dwarves could not even hope to match and his path was far less obstructed. He shot his arrows at the remaining orcs and honed in on Bolg, who was further ahead than the rest of the group.

Thorin pushed aggressively past the humans that remained in the street, and beheaded one of the orcs. Although the wood axe he was using was not made for slicing flesh and bone, Thorin's strong arms carried the attack through powerfully, completely decapitating the orc's head from his body which fell with a satisfying thud.

Not that Thorin stayed to relish his success, he had already set his sights on his next target. He roared and lifted his weapon, ready to attack, only for an arrow to slice through the air and embed itself in the orc's skull. Thorin followed the arrows trajectory and saw the slim shadow of the elf prince dart across the rooftop above him.

Thorin growled, a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest, and he picked up his pace. He heard Dwalin release a battle-cry as the fierce dwarf felled two orcs at once with the unwieldy fish hook he carried and Thorin smiled with grim satisfaction at his friend's success.

These orcs had taken Kili from him, and he would take these orcs from this land.

The heated pulse of vengeance that glowed in his chest was not a healthy emotion, but right now he needed it, and as he sought out the last of the orcs, all thought of gold and dragons left his mind and was replaced by grief-fuelled anger, with real emotion. The gold sickness left him as his true grief took hold and he bit back a sob as he watched Dwalin intercept another strike. His nephew was dead. He'd set out to find gold and instead he had lost that which was most precious to him…

He felled the last of the orcs on the ground and began to follow the elf's progress. The elf was faster, and had a more direct route, but Thorin matched his speed. Thorin and Dwalin met the elf at the mouth of the bridge that led away from Lake-town, with Gloin and Dori joining them. Legolas looked down at Thorin with a sneer, but did not speak. Instead they dispatched to the final orcs that tried to flee, and, as Bolg darted through the group, Thorin hacked his axe into the escaping orc.

The already blood-encrusted blade embedded into the orc's rotting flesh and stuck fast. Bolg pulled away and stumbled up the bridge, with Legolas following swiftly after him. Thorin didn't make chase; the elf would finish Bolg, even if his axe did not, and, sure enough, Bolg's stumbling body crumpled to the ground as the elf, who did not even pause as he passed, struck his head clean off.

The elf didn't turn around, but continued on his way, and Thorin seemed to vaguely remember that there had been another, although he did not know where she was. Vengeance still burned raw in his heart, as his grief clawed at him. Dwalin put a strong hand on his shoulder and steered him back into the streets of the watery town.

'Come on,' he said. 'Let's head back to the others.'

As they walked through the streets it became clear to Thorin that their bloody traipse through the town had not gone unnoticed; they would soon be discovered at Bard's, but somehow, Thorin could not bring himself to care. Finally he dropped all façade, and with only Dwalin to see, with Dori and Gloin walking ahead, he wept openly for the loss of his kin.

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**P.S. Please don't kill me... I'm getting to Kili soon, I promise.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I have had such an amazing response to this story. It's the first fanfic I've ever written and all your reviews, follows, and faves have been so fantastic and supportive... it has really encouraged me to keep writing and I hope that I have done this story justice. Thank you for reading this and staying with me the whole way, you have all been great, and here is your reward... :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit in it's film(s)/book form, I simply wanted to write about it a little. I have not made a profit.**

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The scene left behind after the orcs had either been killed or chased out was one of utter destruction: jagged glass and pottery littered the floor; what remained of the fish stew had been tipped over; tables and chairs had been overturned. Blood was splattered all over the place, and the dead bodies of several orcs remained on the floor, crowding Bard's house even more.

Without even speaking, Bombur began to lug the dead bodies out of the house, pulling them to the window and pushing them out into the canal. The splashing sound as they hit the water below reached the ears of the remaining dwarves and they began to assist in the effort.

Bilbo brushed his clothes down and approached the two girls that hid in the corner of the room.

'It's alright now,' he said. 'They're gone.'

Tilda hid in her sister's skirts, but Sigrid straightened her shoulders and nodded brusquely.

'We're fine,' Sigrid said defiantly, shaking off her fear, just before Bard wrapped both the girls into a fierce hug. Fili brought Bain over, and the entire family engulfed one another. Fili watched them with tears in his eyes, and then glanced over to his brother's body, where he still rested on Bard's bed.

'I'm sorry,' Fili said quietly, before turning back to Bard. 'I'm sorry for the pain we've brought upon your family. It is not fair.'

Bard turned and glanced up at the dwarf from where he was crouching, Tilda's hair tangled in front of his face.

'And I'm sorry you lost your brother,' Bard said. 'Let what is done be done with… no apology is needed for this.'

Fili nodded and then wandered over to his brother, stepping over an orcs dead body, an elven arrow protruding from his neck.

Kili was lying, almost undisturbed but for a fresh splatter of blood on his clothing and the bedding rumpled. Staring at his brother's serene face, Fili became oblivious to all that was happening around him until a smooth hand with long, delicate-looking fingers gently reached for his brother.

Fili turned sharply and blocked the she-elf, Tauriel, from touching his brother.

'Don't,' Fili said sharply. 'It's because of you and your kind that he's dead. We would never have got caught up in the orc's ambush if you hadn't taken us prisoner.'

'I am sorry young dwarf,' Tauriel replied sadly. 'But I grieve for his loss also; I spoke with him while you were in Mirkwood and he had… a way about him.' She smiled softly as she reminisced, and then gently moved around Fili to take Kili's hand in her own.

Her smooth hand grasped his calloused one, and she could feel the groove where his bow would have rested. And then she felt something else. He eyes narrowed and she frowned as she pushed closer. Fili tried to pull her back, but could not move her and she clenched Kili's hand all the more tightly and leaned in, resting her head just above his chest.

'He does not breath,' Fili said sullenly, as Oin joined them, watching the elf cautiously.

'No…' Tauriel agreed, 'but… it breathes for him.'

'What?' Fili finally grabbed Tauriel away from his brother and almost shook her. 'What does that mean? What do you mean?'

'The poison,' Tauriel said. 'The poison is still alive… it's still moving. The poison is breathing inside of his body.'

Fili stared at the elf and then back at his brother.

'But he'd dead…' Fili said. 'I thought… I thought he was…'

'He is,' Tauriel said bluntly. 'But we can bring him back. We have to work quickly.'

Tauriel swept her gaze across the room and settled on what was left of the kingsfoil; it had been knocked from the table during the dwarfs' fight with the orcs and had been trampled on, but it was still mainly intact.

'Athelas,' Tauriel whispered. She reached down for it and scooped it up tenderly, holding it securely in her hands as she examined the plant.

'What are you going to do?' Fili asked desperately as Tauriel pulled away the bindings on Kili's leg, to reveal the black blood still oozing from the wound. 'Can you bring him back?'

Oin put a gentle hand on Fili and pulled him away.

'Let the elf work,' Oin said. 'Her race has great healing magic. We should be honoured for her presence here with us now.'

Around the room the other dwarves had stopped their work and had begun to watch what was happening beside Kili.

'The poison is black and it lives within in,' Tauriel explained. 'It still flows inside of him, and I can use it… I can change it into… into light.' She smiled reassuringly and then crushed the athelas in her hands before pressing it against the still oozing wound.

Her voice took on a quality that Fili had only ever heard before in dreams. It was both soft and powerful at the same time, calm and loud, harsh and bright. He did not understand the words she chanted and it sounded almost as if she were praying. Oin lifted his ear-piece so that he could hear more clearly, but Fili's mind was drowned and as he watched, the words echoed into a buzzing pressure that lingered, somewhere in the back of his mind.

What he saw, however, he would never forget.

A bright light, so white and pure he doubted he would ever see anything so beautiful again, pressed itself against his vision, and his eyes were pulled back to his brother. The veins on Kili's neck had darkened as the poison had taken a hold of him, but now they pulsed with bright light as Tauriel's voice flowed across the room, her hands pressed against the wound.

It wasn't dramatic. It was loud. It was just… there.

The quiet breath, a whistling gasp as air forced its way back into Kili's lungs. His chest rose and then fell, and then lifted once more and dropped again, and it continued to do so in a steady rhythm. A gentle passage of air entering the young dwarf's body as the light in his veins slowly dimmed to normal.

Tauriel lifted her hands from Kili's wound and they can away red; fresh, clean blood leaked from the injury, but the black poison was gone, as was the fever; Kili didn't shiver or tremble, he merely lay, his face as serene as it had been in his death, as the clean air entered his lungs and he breathed.

Tauriel quickly went about binding Kili's wound and the dwarf's face screwed up into a grimace as she pulled the bandages tight. His head tilted a little and his eyes fluttered open; he had dark circles under his eyes but his dark brown orbs shifted lazily from Tauriel to his brother. His eyes shimmered with liveliness and Fili let out a kind of half-sob that stuck in his throat, before his knees finally gave out from under him and he dropped to the floor.

Kili's eyes drifted shut once more and he slept, but it was a peaceful sleep. His breathing was even and smooth; he was alive.

Between them, Bofur and Bifur helped Kili to stand, and they helped him to his brother's bedside where he then collapsed beside him, and grabbed onto Kili's hand, and cupped his face, feeling the warmth against the palm of his hand, feeling and hearing his breathing.

Fili cried out in joy and wrapped his brother up in his arms as Tauriel looked down at the pair. She smiled, almost with a hint of sadness, and checked the dwarf's wound one more time before stepping away and letting the other dwarfs descend on the pair. Oin pushed his way to the front and examined the elf's handiwork before turning to look at her with awe and appreciation.

Tauriel simply smiled and bowed her head a little before she turned to leave.

'Wait!' called Fili from where he still clutched his sleeping brother. She turned and looked at the dwarf questioningly. 'Thank you,' he said.

'It was my pleasure,' said Tauriel and then she left before Fili could say another word. He watched after her for a moment and then turned back to his brother, whose eyes had drifted back open again.

'I saw…' he petered off in confusion as he looked up at his brother's joyous face.

'Shush now brother,' Fili soothed, you're okay now. 'You are going to be just fine.'

Kili looked at Fili and then around at the rest of the dwarves.

'Where are we?' Kili asked, trying to sit up. He grimaced as he moved his leg, but pushed past the pain. He had a mild headache and the overwhelming sense that he should be in a lot more pain, or that he had been… but it was all pretty distant and vague in his mind now.

'We're at Lake-town,' Fili said.

'Lake-town…' Kili sounded the word out. 'Is everyone okay?'

Fili laughed at this and hugged his brother just as tightly.

'Yes brother,' Fili said, still laughing, as Kili looked even more confused. 'We are all okay. Everyone is okay.'

Kili carefully returned the hug, looking around with confusion at the many faces that watched him with eager and excited expressions.

'I don't really remember…'

'It's okay brother, you're alright now.'

A shadow loomed in the doorway, and Gloin and Dori entered the room. Their eyes fell on the two brothers and looked at the pair with shock.

'Keep moving,' Dwalin growled. 'You're blocking the way.'

Gloin and Dori shuffled forward and Dwalin entered, followed by Thorin. Thorin's eyes were on the ground but Dwalin quickly spotted the reason for the other dwarf's sudden stop.

'By Mahal…' Dwalin intoned as Kili looked at his and the other dwarf's reaction curiously.

Thorin then looked up at Dwalin and followed his gaze to see Kili sitting, alive and well, at the edge of the bed, with Fili's arms wrapped around him.

'Kili…' Thorin whispered faintly. 'How…'

He couldn't take his eyes off his nephew as he approached slowly.

'Magic,' Oin supplied. 'Elven magic. And a marvellous sight it was at that.'

But Thorin barely heard Oin's explanation as he wrapped his nephews up in a fierce hug.

'Don't you ever… you stupid… reckless… By Mahal I should send you home right now!' Thorin yelled, his voice muffled as he pressed his head into Kili's shoulder and Kili remained staring at the strange room and the happy dwarfs with a look of utter confusion.

'What did I do?' he asked.

Bofur snorted and then there was laughter, like nothing Bilbo had ever heard since they had left the Shire. For the first time in a long time the entire company were happy, and it had nothing to do with gold.

_**The End...**_


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